Blood-Stained Claws
by paired discontinuity
Summary: [AT] Tailmon has the chance and she takes it. Now the eighth child and Taichi's little sister is dead, and Vamdemon's victory is imminent. It's over...so why can't Tailmon forget? Who is that voice whispering in her ear, that shadow still out of sight? And why hasn't Vamdemon yet won? Is there still hope alive after all?
1. Anyone Home?

**_A/N:_**_ Welcome to our first collaboration! We'll be trading chapters for this one, so the odd chapters are written by one of us and the even ones by the other. Can you guess who's who? _

_This is written for the what-if challenge at the Digimon Fanfiction Challenges Forum where both of us are mods. The what-if we chose is: What if Tailmon had killed Hikari when she had the chance?_

_Warnings: there's a bit of blood in this chapter. Just in case any of you are squeamish. _

_Enjoy, and please let us know what you think!_

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><p><strong>Blood-Stained Claws<br>1. Anyone Home?**

Taichi was hot and sweaty and annoyed. All day they'd searched for the eight Chosen, but all they'd managed to find were Vamdemon's henchmen looking for him or her as well. They had a lot more to show: a hastily welded and precariously leaning Tokyo Tower – considering Kabuterimon couldn't just let it fall onto the city with people in the vicinity or even still inside that tower…

Taichi sighed. At least Agumon was back to being Agumon, which made him feel a little safer. But to think so many of Vamdemon's henchmen were still running about the city, causing who knew what sort of trouble. The seven of them couldn't be everywhere all the time, and if they managed to find the eighth child first –

He quickly shook himself out of that train of thought, then groaned. His feet and head were both killing him, and he couldn't wait for a cool shower and then bed. It wasn't that late, but they'd been walking around all day. Lunch had been salad sandwiches at the stand because it'd been just too hot to digest anything richer. Filling enough when their attention was on other things.

'I'm hungry,' Agumon said at that precise moment.

Taichi laughed; apparently it was only enough for the humans. 'You can grab something to eat when we get home,' he said. 'Who knows; maybe Hikari's baked cookies for you.'

'Ooh, yummy.' Agumon's mouth watered at the very thought and he ran ahead. 'I hope so.'

'Slow down.' The brief respite that had come with laughter quickly faded again. Going home with his sister waiting for him and maybe his mother too, if she wasn't out shopping or at her club, was a peaceful and wonderful idea he'd taken for granted before the Digital World. But now, with everything that had happened, it was a blessing. A place that was still the same and out of Vamdemon's reach, despite everything else. Even if the rest of the world would move on, if Vamdemon's henchmen could search through the night because they weren't human and bound to those same natural laws as the Chosen…but children didn't wander around at night by habit. Being able to search inconspicuously at night would be far more difficult.

That, at least, was something they still had on their side. But there had been Mammothmon, rampaging on the streets of Highten View Terrace. There had been Gesomon, raging through Tokyo Bay. They weren't inconspicuous at all. But that was only two of all those Digimon they'd seen go through the gate. Two of all those Digimon still out there, still searching. 'Do they sleep at all?'

'Huh?' Agumon, who'd already reached the door, turned to his partner. 'Who doesn't sleep?'

'Vamdemon's henchmen.' Taichi caught up and pushed the door. It wasn't shut properly, let alone locked, and Taichi wondered if that meant Hikari had ducked out for a bit, or else his mother had just returned. He didn't think his father could be home yet; it wasn't quite late enough for that.

'I'm back,' he called into the apartment. The sound of the television in the background could be heard, but no reply. 'Mum? Hikari?'

'Maybe they're not home,' Agumon offered, as Taichi toed off his shoes and replaced them with slippers.

'One of them is,' Taichi said tiredly. 'They wouldn't have left the door open otherwise.'

He couldn't hear anything but the television: a news report on the drama at Tokyo Tower it seemed. That knowledge had spread fast. If it was Hikari watching, she might have recognised MetalGreymon from the similarities he bore to his previous digivolutions. It probably was Hikari, if it was the news. Their mother tended to listen on the radio, and the sound was from the living room.

Taichi poked his head through the door. 'Hikari?'

He could see a bit of her brown hair. Yep, that was Hikari all right. Except Agumon was wrinkling his nose. 'What's that smell?'

'What smell?' Taichi sniffed the air. He couldn't smell anything out of the ordinary at all – until he stepped closer to the couch. Not enough to discern it, so he edged closer still. 'Hikari, did you play in the mud –'

He was close enough to see the pink scarf she always wore around her neck, and the blood it had soaked. His heart skipped a beat that moment and his breath got caught in his throat, but then it escaped in a loud panicked cry of 'Hikari!' as he dashed around the couch to her.

And then he froze again, close enough to touch if he stretched his fingers out – but he didn't. He couldn't. She wasn't starting at him, but blankly ahead, at the television screen mindlessly playing on. And blood had dribbled like ketchup from the tear on her neck onto her powder coloured clothes and even onto the whistle she'd loved so very much.

His heart didn't stop beating this time, but screamed so loudly, so fast, it drowned even the television and Agumon's voice out.


	2. In Flux

_**A/N: **Hello, this is the other writer here. One of us will respond to the wonderful comments as soon as we decide how. Until then, know that we thank all of our fans and adore you from the bottoms of our little black hearts. :D And anyway, here is the chapter update. Any and all comments are appreciated._

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><p><strong>2. In Flux<strong>

Tailmon skittered through the human crowd, elation in her paws and her fur tingling like it was being burnt. An odd but tolerable sensation, to say the least. The success was enough to make her purr. The humans who bothered to look by their feet went ignored and she raced to the building.

"What's got you into such a rush?"

The concern in the voice behind her would have rattled her any other time. Not today. "I believe I have made some progress." She tried for neutrality, though pleasure and nausea that should not have been there was vibrant and pulsing and beautiful.

Wizarmon's leather boots touched the ground as he regarded her. She felt a gentle tugging at her brain, prodding like curious fingers at the insides of her ears. Tailmon hissed at him, good mood starting to evaporate.

"Don't burrow your way into my brain!" she snapped, raising her claws. She got that enough from Vamdemon, _thank you._

He raised his hands. "My apologies, but I'd rather not be caught unawares in his court for everyone to see."

Tailmon huffed. She supposed she couldn't blame him for that. "You could just _ask_."

"I could, but you'll lie," he said and she scoffed. Could she be blamed for that?

"Let's just go inside," Tailmon said, stepping towards the door and pushing it open. She didn't despise Wizarmon; he was too relaxed of a person to try even thinking of it. That didn't make him being nosing into her affairs any less obnoxious.

Besides, they would all hear the news soon enough. She'd rather not have to repeat herself.

She padded forward, switching to her back legs so she could concentrate on how it was worded and _not _on how undeniably quiet it was in their hideout. PicoDevimon's troops had been left behind and killed a long time ago, but even hers... those _buffoons_! Perhaps brainwashing really _was _the only way to ensure competency.

Tailmon shuddered. That was not comforting.

The wind blew near her ears, (in a building? What a joke.) but she kept walking. She had done it. She had won. She had killed, just like she was meant to do.

Yet her paws ached, heavy with a weight she didn't really understand.

It was only midday, so she knew her master would be resting, having fed mere hours before. She knew that waking him would be a fool's errand, and she didn't want to be battered as PicoDevimon was for trying.

She scurried up to the place where she had slept in the past few days, a pile of bricks warmed by the sun. She curled there in a ball, ignoring the curious, but crestfallen eyes of Wizarmon in the gloom. Tailmon had fulfilled her mission, that was all she needed to do.

"Oi! Tailmon! Are you loafing on the job? Huh?"

Tailmon's ears twitched and she ducked them down again to ignore PicoDevimon. The whiny little batball would get tired of bugging her eventually.

"She's had success," Wizarmon began, raising hie staff to get in the bat's way, but PicoDevimon snorted in his face.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Tailmon cracked an eye open and scoffed. "I don't have to explain myself to you," she said, a smile curling her mouth. "Only Vamdemon-sama, and that's who I intend to speak to first." She smiled imperiously behind one paw. "Is that a problem for you?"

He sputtered and flew away, leaving Tailmon to hiss in triumph and curl back up in the warmth of the sun.

If she felt the gentle pressure of a hand stroking her fur, she blamed it on Wizarmon.

But the mage was nowhere to be found.


	3. His Victory

_**A/N:**__ Hiya! Here's the first author back for a sparkly chapter three. We still haven't worked out a way to jointly reply – short of intercontinental telepathy which is made even more complicated by the different timezones and university on both sides of the world – but we'll come up with something soon! Until then, thank you for your awesomeness, interest and support, and here's the next chapter!_

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><p><strong>3. His Victory<strong>

Vamdemon was disturbed just before dark by the presence of something just outside chamber. Not his servants – though he had warned them time and time again to not interfere with his rest.

But he knew his servants. All of them. And the presence that had disturbed him was not one of them, though two did linger outside.

Or perhaps linger was the wrong word. One was being rather vocal.

Vamdemon frowned. They knew better than that. He sent a bat in warning, and elicited a shriek. _Picodevimon. And Tailmon too by the sounds of it._

He'd hoped for better from Tailmon, but she'd been quite…inadequate lately. He wondered if he was losing his grip on her.

_Well, no matter. There's all the time in the world for discipline – once the eighth child is found_.

He opened his eyes slowly and let them drink in the darkness of his quarters, where the accursed burning light of the human world couldn't reach. He'd have to do something about that at some point. It was a weakness after all: a weakness he abhorred like other weaknesses.

But, for now, there was a greater weakness to deal with.

'Why aren't you searching for the Eighth Chosen like the others?' he said, voice low and yet echoing and carrying through the door. It opened with a wave of his hand, and a panicked PicoDevimon and a contemplative Tailmon were revealed.

_Why is she looking at her paws like that?_

Ignoring PicoDevimon's babbling, he addressed her. 'I expect better from you, Tailmon.'

'My Lord.' She looked up, her eyes bright. 'I –'

PicoDevimon laughed. 'Where's that success you were bragging about before?'

Tailmon shot him a look. Vamdemon latched onto the word. 'Success? Of what sort?'

'I – ' Tailmon closed her eyes. 'I believe I have…apprehended the eighth child.'

PicoDevimon all but fell out of the air, and even Vamdemon couldn't keep the surprise off his face. Apprehended? As in killed? It had been that easy.

'She knew about Digimon,' she continued. 'She asked if I was a friend of Agumon's while other humans didn't spare me a second glance.' Her expression scrunched. 'Thought I was a common house pet.'

'Hmm...' It was true. The human race was remarkably ignorant about Digimon, save the Chosen Children. But that was hardly proof. 'And the crest?'

Tailmon touched her chest; the crest copy he'd given her and she'd hung there was noticeably absent.

Vamdemon frowned, and summoned his crimson whip. Both PicoDevimon and Tailmon shrunk back. 'Please, your evilness,' Tailmon begged. 'I lost the crest, but –'

'Fool!' Vamdemon thundered, letting it snap forth and catching her where she'd worn that crest before. PicoDevimon scampered back, well out of reach. 'Without the crest, you have no proof it's the eighth child!'

'I do,' Tailmon sobbed, clutching herself. 'I do have proof.' And from her glove she pulled something out and held it before her.

Vamdemon narrowed his eyes and retracted the whip. On Tailmon's paws lay a digivice, just like the ones those other children carried.

'She stole it off one of the other – ' PicoDevimon scoffed, fear lacing it. Fear of success – because it was proof as strong as there could be without the crest to testify. And that meant Tailmon had won. Yes, it could be one of the other Chosen's – but that was a remarkable feat as well. One PicoDevimon had tried to accomplish and yet had failed.

Vamdemon ignored him

Something began to glow in the chamber as the Ultimate digimon took a step closer to that proof. The crest of light, hidden in the folds of his cloak. With a sudden, wild, growl, he ripped it from his body and tossed it. It flew past Tailmon's ears and clattered onto the steps that ascended towards the lawn above, where it glowed a little less.

The digivice in Tailmon's paws glowed as well, but while it sent PicoDevimon shrieking and flying as far away from both sources of light as he dared, it seemed to do nothing to Tailmon. Indeed, she felt no blistering or burning – but rather, a sense of longing and familiarity…

But Vamdemon was watching her, and that digivice was only her proof, that she'd taken from that girl's house with claws stained in blood.

'Well done, Tailmon.' Vamdemon said finally, as the light began to die, and a crack appeared in the digivice's grey screen. Tailmon watched as it slowly spread like venom, before splintering and causing her, finally, to drop it.

It clattered on the cold hard floor in two pieces. Behind them, on the stairs where no-body was looking, the crest also broke in two.

A smirk began to grow on Vamdemon's face. The eighth digivice and crest were now both destroyed – presumably that meant Tailmon was indeed correct, and the eighth child was dead. He would have liked the honour himself…

But now he could play with the remaining seven to his heart's content.

_But a certain cat still needs to learn the lesson of obedience again._


End file.
